


sacrifice

by cityofflights



Category: Chess - Rice/Ulvaeus/Andersson
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Secret Relationship, Spiraling, ive been in the fandom for three days im so sorry if this sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 20:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30128394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityofflights/pseuds/cityofflights
Summary: Freddie overhears a conversation that makes him doubt Anatoly's feelings for him but thankfully the man is there to set the record straight
Relationships: Anatoly Sergievsky/Frederick Trumper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drqco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drqco/gifts), [transzsasz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transzsasz/gifts).



> for rion who made fall in love with these assholes in the blink of an eye, and for sonny for also screaming with us, ily besties hope you like this  
> also my apologies if this completely sucks and its too ooc

Tolya’s first match had just started when Freddie started hearing the first whispers from the other watchers who were  sharing the cabin that overlooked the game with him but he tries his best to drown them out, focusing instead on the clever moves from the players. It works for about a third of the match but eventually, the voices get too loud to ignore

" Sergievsky really is the best one out there gotta give it to him, the man must have no life outside of chess," one says

"That kind of focus and practice? The only thing he ever loved was the game" another comments

"It was no wonder when the magazines announced his divorce, a man like that has no time for romantic relationships”

Other voices keep the conversation going but Freddie can’t hear it anymore. He wished he could stay and tell them how wrong they all are. How they don’t know Tolya at all. How the ring he never takes out of his finger has a twin that resides in Anatoly’s pocket, that is there right now. 

But he doesn’t, he can’t. So he leaves. But not fast enough, as the voices keep shouting at him but from inside his own head. It’s useless to try and shut them out when every synapsis in his brain is on fire with a multitude of thoughts and screams.

Screaming everyone else is right, that he’s a fool for thinking differently, an idiot for believing Anatoly would stay by his side after everyone else in his life left at some point. It gets quieter after a while, which seems worse. Words like unlovable, dispensable, and unworthy seem more real in a polite conversational tone than if they were shouted in a fit of rage. He knows it’s so fucking stupid to let random comments from some bastards who never spoke more than three words to either of them outside of press conferences but that doesn’t seem to matter.

He doesn’t know where he is, how he got there or how long it has passed since he stormed out like the childish man everyone likes to call him. All he’s aware of are the doubts creeping in his mind, if Anatoly really loves him, if he’s with him because it’s convenient, if chess was ever the only thing they had in common, if the vows they exchanged in a cabin in the mountains were just another restrain forbidding Tolya from figuring out who he really is, if-

A strong hand on his shoulder startles him and he’s halfway ready to send the asshole who touched him to hell when he sees  _ who _ the asshole is. Turns out it’s  _ his _ asshole and while normally that wouldn’t prevent Freddie from telling him to go to hell, right now he doesn’t even have the energy for the simple insult.

“Those reporters don’t know shit” his voice is firm but the expression on his face is softer, something Freddie is used to seeing in the privacy of their own home

“How…”

“Florence, she was looking for you and overheard some of the comments. Saw you storm out and told me to come and find you”

“Oh, right" he doesn't raise his eyes from the ground, doesn't want to explain why it hurt so much to hear those things out loud, doesn't want to admit he thought some of them himself over the years.

"Freddie please look at me" he still doesn't "Those people out there, they don't know shit. They think- They think I’ve sacrificed everything but they don't know you're the exception" at the sound of the familiar sentence his eyes finally snap up

  
  
  
  


"They think I’ve sacrificed everything but they don't know you're the exception" Anatoly cups Freddie's face as he talks, in an unusual gentle manner. He can't deliver the words laced in the brash tone and teasing insults that make up most of their conversations, Freddie won't believe he's serious unless he can see it as well as feel it.

It's a complicated thing, to love Freddie. Not because the man is hard to love quite the opposite actually, because loving him comes as easy as breathing to Anatoly after all the years they've been together. The hardship comes in the expression of those feelings.

Neither one of them is big on grand romantic declarations, preferring instead to show devotion through action, after all, they've always gotten each other without speaking, two sides of the same coin. But he also knows that when Freddie gets lost in his own head, when the voices convincing him he's unlovable, unworthy, and not enough get too loud, tight grips and hard kisses aren't enough.

On those occasions, Anatoly gets past his own complicated relationship with words because as much as it's difficult for him to say things outright, it's nothing compared to the shredding hurt that slashes his chest when Freddie looks at him with lost eyes on the verge of tears. He would tear the world apart to erase it from the man he loves, offering reassuring words is nothing. Of course, Freddie is the only exception to his rule, everyone else can fuck of if they ask him to talk about that stuff

After what feels like an eternity, Freddie lets out a long breath and all but sags into Anatoly's arms. They hold each other without exchanging any words until Freddie draws back, his eyes clearer and not so frantic. He clears his throat before speaking “You did good in the match, almost didn’t notice it was a commie bastard who was playing”

And just like that, they’re back to the regular programming of insults and jabs. Anatoly feels the relief run through his veins, the worry that had made its way into the pit of his stomach when Florence had told him what happened disappearing at last.

“I’m impressed you manage to pay attention to the game long enough to see what was happening”

“What the fuck would I be watching if not the game?”

“Your own reflection on the glass divider”

“Oh fuck off Sergievsky”

And so they continue all the way to their hotel room(the one booked for only one of them because they can never be too careful), where Anatoly will finally slip the ring he kept in his pocket all day back on his finger and on it will stay until they have to go out the close doors and face the real world.


End file.
